


you’re the only thing that i think i got right

by bodytoflame



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Literally the sweetest smut I could write, Smut, They are so in love I—
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodytoflame/pseuds/bodytoflame
Summary: annabeth has a plan.for once, she lets the universe take control.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 40
Kudos: 315





	you’re the only thing that i think i got right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [percyyoulittleshit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/percyyoulittleshit/gifts).



> fuck off mari

**i watched the world fall from your eyes**   
**all my regrets and things you can't forget**   
**light them all up, kiss them goodbye**

**lover of mine ..//.. 5 seconds of summer**

* * *

No matter how much she strived to take control of every detail of her life, there were always things Annabeth could never plan for. An unexpected family day trip, for starters. One neither she nor Percy had any interest in, mostly for the fact that they’d barely had any time to themselves with her little brothers breathing down their necks, not to mention her still shaky relationship with her father and stepmother.

And it’s a good day. They bake cookies that are blue, and somehow don’t burn down the house, and by some miracle they taste _good_ , which is as much a testament to his baking skills as it is to her fondness for sweets.

It’s an unexpected day too. Unexpected that they’re alone, for the first time in a very long time, and unexpected just how much she’s kept pent up for so long. It’s not to say she didn’t expect to end up making out with her boyfriend on her bed — but _gods_ , if she wasn’t thankful for it. It’s the exact kind of distraction she needs from the world this summer; college looming over both of their heads. It feels normal, almost too much so. But, she reminds herself, so is this.

She’s not sure what clicks in her brain, but she feels her stomach flip as his hands find her hips, and the thought plants itself in her head; that she wants him. Desperately. Which is as scary as it is exhilarating. So her hands trail up his shirt, daring to plant her knee inbetween his legs, because she’s nothing if not proactive — and when she wants something, she’s going to make it known (no one ever got anywhere meaningful by being vague, and their relationship is the greatest testament to that). And there’s Percy, always the gentleman:

“Annabeth,” he breathes, heavy, trying to separate himself from her so he can speak, “Annabeth, tell me what you want.” —

— Because he’s asked her this question before, and her answer has always been the same; “Is it okay if I—?” met with “Just kiss me for now.” Hands would occasionally roam her chest and thighs, which she would admit, more often than not worked her up quite a bit, but up until this point their relationship had been surprisingly chaste.

And again, she’s not sure what makes this different — what makes tonight the night she decides that she wants to share her body with him — but it’s as firm in her mind as it could possibly be. It’s something she’s been thinking about for a long time, but it isn’t something she expected tonight. She imagined it as something she planned meticulously, picking every romantic detail of the encounter. And while she’d love to save it for that... her body is telling her to just _let go_.

So what does she want?

 _I want to forget about everything else for a little while. To just be teenagers — no wars, no gods, no trauma — just stupid teenagers in love, making impulsive decisions._ “I want you.” _There’s nothing I want more than you._

“I need to know exactly what you want.” He’s feeling stupid, and very much the opposite of seductive, but most of all, despite how turned on he is (and he always is, when it comes to her), what he needs to know is that she’s sure. “Tell me.”

It takes her a second to work up the courage to speak. “I want to have sex with you.” She tries not to blush, but in the end she feels the heat rise to her cheeks anyway. Percy blushes profusely in response (he doesn’t know what he expected), and she has to stifle a laugh.

“Okay, wow, uh. Yes. I would also... like to do that.” He winces, trying to recover from that painful exchange, “When are they coming back?”

She checks her watch, “About an hour. Is that... like... enough time?”

Percy laughs, “Yeah, Annabeth, that’s enough time.”

“I have condoms,” she says, glancing toward her bedside table.

He raises an eyebrow, unspokenly wondering if she planned this, “You do?”

“Yeah.” She looks down into her lap for a moment, hiding her blush, before continuing. “Stop teasing!” she laughs, shoving him back with both hands on his shoulders.

“Sorry,” Percy smiles, leaning back in to kiss her. His hands find her bare back on instinct, pushing her shirt up.

“Wait a second.” Annabeth pulls back from his embrace, quickly sliding her hands under his shirt on both sides and tugging it up over his head. She smirks, trailing her hand down his chest at a glacial pace.

He pulls her into his lap, wanting to hold her bare skin against his. “This is unfair,” he laughs, a low rumble that Annabeth can feel throughout her body.

“So do something about it,” she shrugs, stifling a laugh, trying to incite him. His hands wrap around her waist, carefully sliding her t-shirt off with the lightest touch. Her curls fall into her face, the shirt taking her hair tie with it; he tucks the stray strands behind her ear. Finding a spare elastic on her wrist, Percy gathers her hair up into a loose bun on the top of her head.

He kisses her again without a second thought, desperate to memorize every inch of her further than he already has. 

It’s almost foreign to Annabeth, how careful he is. This was normally frenzied, a moment she lived in for the intensity; of how alive it made her feel. So she takes control, kissing his neck in the way she knows makes him feel so vulnerable, but so alive (though he refuses to admit how good it feels). In response, he feels his way up her body, her abs rippling under his touch. He smiles, pulling her just a little closer, satisfied with how he makes her stomach flip. She continues; both of them knowing the mark it’ll leave, but too invested to stop.

Percy can feel his mind and body growing more restless by the second. His hand grazes over her breast, touching her in a way that’s familiar, but changed by the promise of something new. He takes his time, fingers blindly tracing along the fabric of her bra; following up to her shoulders and lifting the straps off her arms. It’s a wonder how soft; feminine she feels, despite the hard muscle she’s built up that reminds him of his own — and the scars. He feels the raised lines of scars across her skin, ones he’s never noticed; ones he knows too well (he traces the jagged cut down her arm). And still — the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He tries not to be rough, gently pressing his hand against her chest; she responds by burying her hand further in his hair, coaxing him to continue. He caresses her again, knowing he’s a goner when she freezes, letting out a whimper against his neck.

She takes in shallow breaths, trying not to lose control so easily (because that’s her whole _thing_ ); all she wants is him, but _more_ of him. “Do you feel how fast my heart is beating right now?” she asks.

“It would be hard not to,” he laughs, pulling his focus from the feeling of her body.

Annabeth’s hands drift to cup Percy’s face. She bites back a too-snarky response, knowing he quite literally has the upper hand. “You’re an ass.”

“‘ _A fine piece of ass_ ’, I believe, were the words you used,” he chuckles. His hand slips down, naturally finding the curve of her waist.

She rolls her eyes, not letting herself laugh despite how funny it actually is in this context. It takes a second for her to remember where they are; how much she’s making light of the entire exchange. “This is serious,” she finally responds, soft.

“I know,” he smiles, “I’m just trying to calm my nerves.”

 _Nervous? Really?_ He’s the last person she would expect to be nervous about this, which makes her feel a whole lot better. “Me too,” she admits, kissing him again before he can respond.

Annabeth feels his hands work up her back, slow, unclasping her bra, and then, a question, mumbled against her lips: “Is this okay?”

This is familiar — she determines it doesn’t warrant a verbal response, making quick work of tossing it to the floor.

Percy pulls back, though his gaze doesn’t falter for a second, firmly locked on her eyes. “You need to tell me.”

“Yes, Percy, it’s okay.” She drapes her arms over his shoulders and once again leans into a kiss; softer, slower. With the way he holds her, she could stay like this for hours, taking in the feeling of how safe she is in his arms. Reassured, Percy takes a tighter grip on her waist; still gentle, but with a sense of urgency she immediately understands.

Annabeth deepens the kiss, confident with the sense of familiarity that that his embrace brings. She doesn’t worry about the future — for once — and makes a choice to focus on how warm his lips are against hers, how his fingertips seem to radiate energy as they skim her body; almost electric.

She takes quick, heavy breaths, feeling more winded than she ever has in battle. Kissing his neck again, she’s never been more grateful to be a bit shorter than him; the perfect height to bury her face against his neck.

Percy tries to distract himself, unsuccessfully; one hand roaming up her leg, the other on her chest. Annabeth takes a chance, gently pulling his skin between her teeth. He responds on instinct, hands curling tightly around her. She reacts in turn, breathing a gasp against his neck.

He drops his hands, reaching to undo the button on his shorts, _something_ to relieve the tension.

She notices, between the loss of contact and the hitch in his breathing; her eyes trail down to watch his fingers fumble, hands too unsteady to make quick work of it. Smirking, Annabeth wraps her legs around his back, pulling her body flush against his. “Yeah?”

“Damnit, Annabeth,” he says, almost a growl. The weight of her sitting in his lap makes it even more painful than it already is solely through her presence. “That’s not funny.”

“I think it’s pretty funny,” she laughs, rolling her hips for good measure, still unaware of exactly how much it affects him.

“Annabeth, please.”

Her face turns red almost instantly from hearing him so desperate, “Sorry,” she whispers.

He cracks a smile. “It’s okay, just... help me with this, please.”

Annabeth scoots back off his lap, locking eyes as her hands undo the button and slide the zipper down, watching curiously as he winces when her fingers brush him in the slightest.

“That hurts?” she asks.

“Yes!” he laughs, wriggling out of his shorts as quickly as he can.

“I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “I didn’t know it was that bad!”

Percy shakes his head. “You’re cruel.”

She scoffs, pushing him over into her pillows and climbing on top of him, “And you’re a Seaweed Brain.”

All he can think as she kisses him, leaving marks on his neck, is, _I’m sure going to be if you keep this up._

He sits up, needing a break from her incessant attack on his neck, leaning her over so he can kiss her with more leverage; down her neck, her collarbones, her breasts, his free hand moving up her thigh, under her skirt. He’s not surprised it’s such a game of push and pull with her when it’s always been like this — for everything else.

But this is about her; the way her hips buck up as his hand reaches the top of her thigh, the little gasp she lets out against his lips when he feels how hot she is, slick between her legs. Percy manages to separate his lips from hers long enough to ask, “What do you like?”

She looks confused. “How am I supposed to know?”

“Do you not...”

“I mean... yeah,” she chuckles, because _duh_ , she wholly appreciates the gift of female sexuality, “but I don’t know... I guess... I can show you?”

Percy gulps, sitting up and trying to swallow down how much it turns him on. “Okay.”

Annabeth blushes, hiking up her skirt (which she’s so grateful for wearing today, she doesn’t feel too exposed like this). She tries not to meet his eyes as she starts, slipping her hand into her underwear, slow and simple, closing her eyes. He watches in awe, hearing how she catches her breath; her hand shaking. It’s frustrating, she can’t get anywhere, even though she’s never been more turned on before.

He recognizes the look on her face through everything else. “You okay?”

She shrugs, letting her hands fall to her sides after she wipes her fingers off on her leg. “It’s just awkward. Not being alone.”

“We can stop.”

“No!” she blurts out. It’s just about the last thing she wants. “I want you to try.”

He blushes, “You’re sure?”

Annabeth nods. “You have my permission.”

Leaving only a moment of hesitation, Percy leans over her — kissing just around her chest, up along the lines of her collarbones, her neck, her chin, her _lips_ — one hand supporting himself, the other tracing the curve of her waist, then her hips.

“Percy, I swear, don’t you dare be a tease right now.”

“You didn’t have any qualms about doing it to me earlier.”

She pouts, choosing to ignore the fact that what he’s saying is true, “Now is _not_ the time to impress me with fancy dictionary words.”

“Oh, but it turns you on,” he smiles, knowing she’s played right into his hands — and his hands continue to work her up with unmatched focus, fingers trailing just along the crease of her leg.

She regrets teasing him so much, if only for what he’s doing to her now. It’s incredible how much this does to her; just his hand on her thigh, somehow more than her own hands; simultaneously dreading and craving what it might feel like when he actually touches her.

“Percy,” she breathes out his name, longing for an answer.

He smiles into her embrace — she lifts her hands behind his neck, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him close — thumbing the fabric on her hip, “Can I?” Her hips press back up into his touch, but still, he asks.

Annabeth’s pride won’t let her ask politely. “Yes.” _Please._

He pulls her skirt down over her hips, letting his fingers fumble with the edge of the elastic on her underwear. Her nerves calm as he slips his hand under, the lightest touch of his fingers brushing against her sending a spark through her body, and she already wants more. He presses the tip of his finger against her, surprised at how easily she pulls him in with a tilt of her hips, gasping.

“More?”

He kisses her shoulder and obliges with a second, the heel of his palm providing just enough friction to make her squirm.

“ _Gods_ , is there anything you’re _not_ good at?” She’s coming undone with every breath, Percy’s lips still pressing kisses across her collarbones, a hum of a laugh sounding against her skin.

Percy’s thumb teases her with the lightest ghost of a touch, and she’s unable to stop the shiver it sends through her whole body. She thinks, it’s incredible how the faintest touch — one she would barely feel from her own hands — does so much solely because it’s _him_.

She can feel her heart pounding faster in her chest, noting how quick he’s brought her to such a level.

Then he stops. Because he’s _Percy_ , and she should have expected he would never let her go so easy. “Screw you,” she whines, secretly curious if he knew just how close she was.

He just laughs at her; seriously, has the nerve to laugh at how she begs him to keep going, with her eyes locked on his.

Annabeth decides she’s absolutely done with his incessant teasing; she’s in control, and she’s deciding what she wants. She reaches her hand out, thumb hooking over the waistband of his boxers, her boldest move yet.

He freezes.

And she knows. “You won’t hurt me,” she says.

“Are you sure?”

“Watch your ego, Jackson.” She rolls her eyes. “I am _incredibly_ turned on, and I promise, you won’t,” she responds, in earnest. Not that she would admit it, but she’s done _research_ (consisting of far too many late nights browsing sex-positive feminist forums online). It’s sweet that he’s trying to be so gentle — it reminds her just how much he cares for her — but she’s completely prepared to order him around if it means she‘ll be able to get off. So she rolls her eyes again, and sits up, quickly pinning him down like she’d do in a sparring match.

Percy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to train with her again without thinking of this moment.

She leans over, blindly reaching for one of the few condoms — stashed in the back of her bedside table — she’d gotten from Piper. She tears the foil, and just... looks at it. For all her preparation— “I don’t know how to do this,” she bursts into laughter, wondering how she could forget something so important.

Percy takes it from her, fumbling a little with his boxers. “I got it,” he chuckles alongside her, carefully lifting the waistband over his hips, and watching her expression. If she’s surprised at all, it doesn’t show, but her cheeks flush (which she’s surprised isn’t a permanent fixture of her face at this point). Tossing them aside, he rolls it on step by step, feeling like high school sex ed all over again.

He’s so focused on making sure it’s on right (mostly because he’s pretty sure he’d be smited by the gods without hesitation if he got her pregnant), he doesn’t even see her slip out of her underwear. By the time he processes that fact, he’s once again overwhelmed by her hands on his thighs. She wonders if she should touch him first, like he did for her. But by the way his breath hitches as her fingers trail across his hips, she knows he’s too close already.

And then — she’s kneeling over him, curls falling from her bun (he never said he was good at making them), and all she wants is this. She sinks down slowly, realizing she’s been holding her breath, letting it out in a huff as she rests her whole body on top of him.

He whispers into her ear, strained from the stimulation, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she lets out another heavy breath, head lying against his chest, listening to his breathing and pounding heart. “Just,” she sighs, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, “different than anything else.” Not uncomfortable, just strange.

He lets her stay like that, bodies pressed together, for a minute, both of them trying to catch their breath. She feels so warm, not just like this, but wrapped in his arms too.

“Okay,” she finally speaks, her voice mostly air.

“Okay...?”

She clarifies, “Okay, _do something_.”

He wills himself not to laugh at how blunt she is, even like this. “ _You’re_ on top of _me_.”

So she is. She moves her hips, incredibly slow, feeling Percy tremble beneath her. Lifting her head from his chest, she kisses him, deeper than he’d ever imagined was possible — she feels like a part of him; and maybe she is. His hands tangle in her curls, now barely contained in the bun, but she’s too enveloped in the feeling to care how it might get knotty. And it’s not so much the physical sensations that feel so good (it does, but just a little, and in a different way than she expected), but how connected she feels to him because of it.

Words threaten to tumble out of her mouth with little thought, mostly expletives and invoking the gods (and they most definitely do not need an audience); she lets out a moan in lieu (and later wonders which would’ve been more embarrassing). Most of all, she wants to cry, because he’s so beautiful, and gentle, and because he loves her — so much. And she knows then she can’t do this. It’s too much and she’s already breathing so heavy; her body aches from the exertion, and for once in her life she feels like she doesn’t need control over every single little thing. She just wants him to hold her close, and forget about every other sensation that ties her to the mortal world.

“Come here,” she says, sitting up slightly, and he does, still mesmerized by the way her eyes meet his. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” he answers, reassuring.

Annabeth’s hands find his face, holding him close. “Make love to me.” She’s so quiet, like her voice might break the moment entirely.

He rolls her over — her words setting off something within him — a silent mess of limbs, and keeps kissing her like his life depends on it; the only thing keeping him grounded as he feels her so tightly wrapped around him, her fingernails digging into his back, pulling him closer. And it burns so good.

Annabeth melts into the mattress like a puddle, lazily kissing back, but focusing on what it feels like to have him inside her, a hazy mess of emotions and sweat. He can’t find a rhythm that doesn’t feel awkward; too fast, too slow, and bringing him too close to the edge. She doesn’t notice, too set on listening to how her heart is thumping in her chest. Her fingers clutch the sheets tighter every time he moves, senses completely overwhelmed.

“I don’t know how long I can—“ He pulls his lips away from hers long enough to see her icy grey eyes, piercing. His nose brushes hers, and he can feel her breath against his skin, knowing she feels the same. After all, he’s still a teenage boy (if barely), and a virgin (although he supposes, not anymore), and this is the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on; and he knows he can’t keep this up forever.

“Go slow, then,” she answers, like it’s the obvious answer. Her mind is so fuzzy, feeling like she’s drifting between worlds (she briefly wonders if she’s dreaming, but no, dreaming wouldn’t be this colorful).

And he does, so slow, until he can’t; until she moans into his mouth; whimpering, hand sliding between them. Percy quickly replaces it with his own, wanting to be the one to push her over the edge — and he is; she sighs his name like a prayer, feeling him continue rocking his hips into hers, the sensation growing even more intense with her emotions.

As she comes down, sinking even further into her bed, he allows himself to let go, built up by her own high. He pulls back and collapses into the crook of her neck, pressing lazy kisses to her jaw. “You’re... a goddess. I swear.”

“Not quite.” She laughs, hit with the fact that this is all she could’ve asked for. This; him. And though she’s not as satisfied physically as she would be alone, she’s on the verge of tears with just how much love she has for him. “Thank you.”

“What?” He’s still breathing heavily as he turns to face her, having just taken care of the condom.

Annabeth wraps her arms around him. “You made that perfect.” Not _perfect-_ perfect, but as perfect as she could’ve imagined a first time to be, and then some. And she figures, it won’t be the last, either. “I love you.”

He holds her close, stroking her head, “I know... I know,” he sighs, “I love you.”

Now all she wants to do is fall asleep like this, in his arms — and she decides she will, because she can, even if it wasn’t in her plan.

**Author's Note:**

> give me validation in the comments so i don't put myself in the shame corner


End file.
